


Lover be good to me

by mollynoble



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Exs to Lovers (again), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollynoble/pseuds/mollynoble
Summary: It had been almost a year since Clint woke up one morning to find Bucky gone, or 336 days if you were being specific.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77
Collections: 2021 Winterhawk Valentine's Day Exchange





	Lover be good to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ClaraxBarton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/gifts).



> For Clara, for the Winterhawk Valentine's Day Exchange. I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> Thank you to [Noxnthea](https://noxnthea.tumblr.com/) for the last minute beta. All other mistakes are 100% mine.

It had been almost a year since Clint woke up one morning to find Bucky gone, or 336 days if you were being specific. 

***

Clint waking up alone was not in itself out of the ordinary. Clint was a heavy sleeper and a late riser, Bucky was the opposite, up with the sun to hit the gym. So Clint didn’t think much of it when he woke to half the bed empty and the apartment quiet. He didn’t roll out of bed right away; Lucky had clearly been walked and fed because otherwise he would have been nudging Clint with his cold nose, so he simply enjoyed spreading out a stretching before he finally did get up and into the shower. 

He was a little surprised to see Bucky not back by the time he made it to the kitchen, but Clint figured he had just gotten a slow start himself considering how late they'd been up the night before. Clint smiled to himself as he got the coffee pot started, thinking about the reason they'd gotten so little sleep the night before even though they'd been in bed so early. 

The day before had been a pretty normal day by most people's standards, which made it an exceptional day for them. They’d had breakfast, went to the farmers market, taken Lucky to the dog park, gotten lunch from their favorite taco truck, did some small tasks around the apartment, then pizza and tv before turning in early. It had been a nice, quiet day. The kind of day that stood out for its simple joys. 

When they had gotten into bed Bucky had nestled into Clint, pressing a kiss against his stubbled jaw with a mumbled _goodnight_ that Clint couldn't actually hear with his aids on his bedside table, but felt against his skin. Clint had dropped a kiss onto the top of Bucky’s head in return. He didn’t think anything of what he said next at the time.

“Night babe,” Clint pulled Bucky closer, “I could do this forever.”

Bucky had pulled back, going up on one elbow to look down at Clint, who looked back with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Clint asked when Bucky continued to stare down at him in the dark. Bucky finally just shook his head, Clint just able to make out a rueful smile on his face from the ambient light leaking in around the curtains, before leaning in to kiss him properly. 

The kiss quickly deepened from a simple press of lips. One thing led to another and, well, here Clint was the next morning tired from a lack of sleep for the very best reason and muscles sore in the very best way. It would only have been improved with sleepy morning snuggles, but Clint would have to be satisfied with coffee flavored kisses when Bucky got back from the gym.

It was while thinking that thought that Clint noticed Bucky's boots were gone… as well as his gym shoes from the pile by the front door. The only reason he would have taken both was if he was going on a job. It was common for Bucky to get a call and leave at the drop of the hat, heck Clint did the same thing, a text from Nat and he was gone in under 30 minutes. Part of the reason they worked so well together was because they understood that was just how the business was. Neither of them minded the others’ strange work schedule since theirs was just as odd. But leaving without a goodbye, not even a note on the fridge, was not something they ever did. 

A feeling of unease was growing in the bottom of Clint’s gut when he crossed the apartment to open the closet where they kept their gear. Sure enough, Bucky’s go-bag was gone. The coffee pot beeped as it finished, but Clint continued to stand frozen in front of the closet. It wasn’t just Bucky's go-bag gone, but _everything_. No job would call for every single piece of body armor, holster, his back up boots and every weapon. There should be some blank spots where he had taken what he needed, but instead his entire half of the closet was bare. 

Lucky bumped his head against Clint’s hand, startling him out of the frozen moment. He took a few steps into the living room and sat heavily on the couch, Lucky climbing up as well, shoving his head into Clint’s lap. He sat there absentally petting Lucky for a long time. 

Clint thought things had been good, hell he thought things were great. Apparently not though. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but figured whatever it was must have been bad to warrant such an abrupt departure. He didn’t bother to check their dresser to see if Bucky’s drawers were empty or the shower to see if his fancy shampoo was gone. If Bucky had taken every one of his guns that's all Clint needed to know that he wasn’t planning on coming back. 

***

Today's job was pretty straight forward from Clint’s perspective: keep the client alive. Nat would roll her eyes at that, calling it an oversimplification, but that's really all it ever was. Clint liked it better this way. Back in the day he’d been coming at it from the other side. He’d thought of himself as a good guy, since he was wearing a uniform and his orders were coming for men with shiny rank on their collars and college degrees. It was an easy lie to swallow at 17 with nothing to his name but a GED, childhood trauma and battered paperback copy of Ender’s Game. 

As the years went on the lie started to get stuck in his throat, though he still managed to get it down with enough beers and medals pinned to his chest. _They wouldn't reward him and call him a hero if what he was doing was wrong, right?_ He got to be so good he was getting loaned out to special ops and CIA missions. Some missions felt right, clear cut stopping bad guys, others… not so much. But they didn’t pay him to think he would remind himself, they paid him to pull the trigger and not miss. So that’s what he did until one day it was a red-haired woman in his sights. 

She was beat to hell, clearly desperate and on the run. The mission brief had been literally brief this time; the target was armed, dangerous and an extreme threat to national security; deadly force advised as the primary course of action. Looking through the scope at this woman he just couldn't do it anymore. He’d hit his limit and the lie of “for the greater good” just didn't cut it anymore. And that was that, he packed his rifle up, climbed down from his hide and went to go have a conversation with the woman that would become his best friend in the world for the rest of his life.

Initially they spent a lot of time working to stay alive and out of jail. Clint going AWOL and Nat’s breakup with Russian intelligence made them both pretty high on wanted lists. But they managed to call in enough favors and blackmail enough bad people in power that it all worked out. Years later he and Nat had made a pretty impressive name for themselves as specialized security.

So here he was perched on a roof watching two men sitting outside a cafe while Nat sat sipping a coffee at the table next to them. It looked like a perfectly ordinary business lunch meeting. It was, however, between a politician that kept having “accidents” he barely survived and an activist who was wanted for fabricated terrorism charges. 

The activist had hired them last minute, not giving them much time to plan before getting here. So it had been a shock when the politician had showed up with Sam tailing him. Clint had known he’d hired his own protection team, but hadn’t realized which team it was until that moment. Nat had ignored his “ _what the fuck_ ” on the coms and continued to pretend to peruse the menu while the two men shook hands and sat. Sam flagged down a waitress, ordered something and sat at a table that let him cover the east while Nat’s position had the west covered. 

If Sam was here, then that meant Steve was in a vehicle somewhere and Bucky was on another roof nearby. They hadn't worked with Guardian Security since Bucky had left him. They used to work together regularly. Nat had met Steve on a job in Bahrain and liked his style so when they had needed help in Bangkok a few months later she’d called him. That was how he and Bucky had met. After the job they’d had drunken noodles from a food stall, debated the best scope for low light conditions, then gone back to Bucky’s hotel room and had the best first-date sex of Clint’s life. 

He resisted looking at the other roofs and trying to spot Bucky. One, because he was unlikely to find him (Clint was a slightly better shot than Bucky, but Bucky was unmatched at concealment) and two because he wasn’t sure he even wanted to see him. They hadn’t spoken since Bucky had left. He knew Nat and Steve still talked, but he still snapchatted Sam regularly so he couldn't complain about it. He didn’t know how he’d react when he did see Bucky, but he knew the middle of a high risk job like this would be a bad idea. Clint shook his head; he needed to stay focused.

It was he had that thought all hell broke loose, _typical_. 

For the next few minutes all of his attention was taken up with giving Nat the cover fire she needed to drag the client into the cafe. As he did so he was keenly aware that Bucky was also doing so. There was no way to know yet who these guys were here for, their client or the other team’s so the best course of action was to act as if they were the target and let the other team fend for themselves. However, he couldn’t help but take out a goon that had managed to get a clear shot at Sam while he shoved the politician into the back of a SUV. 

Nat and the activist had disappeared and the SUV was peeling away from the curb, so he grabbed his rifle and took off across the roof. As Clint leaped across a narrow alley, he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Bucky was doing the same thing he was, falling back to a rendezvous location. Clint really should have been paying attention to his footing, not turning to try and get a better look at his ex. The plan had been to get down to street level anyways, no one needed to know that he slipped and tumbled down a fire escape rather than climb down gracefully. He hadn’t even gotten a good look for his trouble.

He got to the vehicle they had stashed a few blocks away just Nat and the client rounded the corner at a run, two men hot on their tail. Nat saw him and shoved the client into the wall to their right, covering him with her own body, giving Clint a clear shot at the pursuers. She was moving toward the vehicle again, client in tow, before the bodies hit the ground. Clint cimbed in, turned the engine over and as soon as Nat slammed the door shut behind herself and the client he floored it.

“Did you know they were going to be here?” He asked while making a hard right, getting them headed in the direction of their evacuation point.

“No, I did not.” Nat climbed up into the front passenger seat, “but really it was only a matter of time until we ran into him.” 

Clint grunted, merging aggressively into traffic. There was silence for a while in the vehicle. The client was breathing hard in the back, clearly terrified, Nat was calmly reloading her pistol and Clint focused on getting them to the evac point while watching for pursuit. After a few minutes it became clear either they had managed to shake the tail or they weren't the target. Which had Clint worrying about Bucky the rest of the drive.

They got the client safely onto a plane and out of the country and headed toward their local safe house before Clint broke.

“Did you hear from Steve if they made it out okay?” He asked while changing lanes, trying to make it come out casual and offhand.

Nat took mercy and did not make a big deal out of it, just answered short and to the point. “Yup, they had more pursuit than us, looks like their guy was the target, but they got him out without any injuries.” 

“That’s good.” Clint deliberately did not think about how relieved he felt by that.

Nat _hummed_ in agreement but didn’t comment. They were a few minutes from the safehouse and Clint was mulling over the fact that this being the first time seeing Bucky had turned out to be so anti-climatic. He really should have learned his lesson about thinking thoughts like that since that was the moment their vehicle was hit. A broadside collision, the other driver blowing through a red light and crashing into their drivers side. 

The initial impact stunned them for only a moment before Nat had her gun drawn and Clint slammed the accelerator to try and get them clear. There was a terrible screech of metal as they detached from the other vehicle. They only made it across the intersection before it became clear the frame was too badly damaged. Without having to speak they both bailed out through Nat’s side and moved together to take cover. 

Clint leaned against the side of the vehicle, taking a deep breath, trying to judge how badly he was injured while Nat snuck a look out to assess the situation. It became clear quickly though that there were no shots coming and there was no sign of an attack. 

“I think...that might have just been a regular car accident,” Nat ventured. The driver of the other vehicle had stumbled out of her car and Clint could hear “ _Oh my god! Oh no I am so sorry!”_

“You have got to be kidding me.” Clint slid down until he was sitting propped against the wheel of the totaled vehicle.

“Well it is ridiculous but it is better than being under attack,” Nat retorted, holstering her gun and turning to look down at Clint. “You okay?”

“My shoulder is fucked,” he grunted, closing his eyes and thumping his head back against the side of the car, which was a bad idea. “Ouch” he complained, reaching to rub the back of his skull with his right hand. His left arm was limp at his side and his shoulder clearly out of place.

The next twenty minutes went by in a fog. The combination of lack of threat and Nat being there meant he could zone out to deal with the pain. Next thing he knew, Nat was directing him to sit on the blue couch in their safehouse. It was a single room with a small kitchenette, tiny table with a single chair, a queen bed against one wall and a tiny bathroom with a leaky sink.

“I’ll make this quick” was the only warning he got before Nat pulled his arm straight out in front of him.

“Ow fuck! Nat!” He had barely finished his protest when he felt the shoulder pop back into place. 

“Oh shush you baby.” Nat's voice was brusk, but her hands were gentle as she helped him pull his shirt off. “Stay put, I'll get ice,” she commanded before heading over to the kitchenette. 

“How is it we get hit by an idiot texting and driving?” Clint bemoaned, adjusting the pillow on the couch that might have been called antique but really was just old, trying to get comfortable. “Like what bullshit! We are dangerous, deadly badasses Nat, we should not be getting in run-of-the-mill car wrecks.” His protest of the situation came a bit whiny but his shoulder _hurt_.

Nat returned to his side with a bag of ice in a towel and some bandages. She had his arm in a makeshift sling and the ice strapped to his shoulder in short order. Clint continued to bitch about the indignity of getting hurt in such an uncool way while she did so. 

“It’s a minor injury Clint. You’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Nat declared when she was done, stepping away to go tidy herself up in the bathroom. She left the door open so Clint continued his tirad of outrage and injustice.

When she reentered the room, looking absolutely no the worse the wear for having been in a car accident, she stood over him, looking down at him until he petered out into silence.

“I’m sure the reason you're so upset by this has nothing to do with Barnes.” She didn’t bother with a question mark on the end of that statement.

“What no!” Clint started but then immediately shut up in response to her raised eyebrow and pointed look.

“You are on edge from seeing Barnes and embarrassed. It’s not a big deal, I understand. I cannot relate since I've never been dumped or looked foolish in front of an ex, but I can understand it has you upset,” Nat said, patted him on the head like he was a sad puppy, then turned to the kitchenet.

Clint slumped back muttering, “Bucky wasn’t even there so like it’s fine, he didn’t see it, it’s not like he knows.” 

“I texted Steve, so he knows,” Nat spoke with her head in the fridge, looking for something to eat.

“What!?” Clint shot upright off the couch. “Why would you tell him!?”

“Cause you were hurt.” She had found a container of leftovers that she was now eating straight out of. “I figured letting our allies know we might need backup was a good idea.” Her tone implied that this was obvious and Clint was being an idiot.

“I’m fine!” Clint started to pace. “It’s nothing, like seriously fine, absolutely no need to tell them.”

Nat watched him circle the small room, continuing to eat, while he ranted some more about how he was totally fine and there had been no need to tell anyone how completely fine he was. When she finished her food she tossed the empty container in the trash and headed toward the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Clint called out as she opened the door.

“I’ll be back in the morning, don’t forget to change out your ice pack and get some rest, grumpy cat.” And with that the door closed behind her, leaving Clint standing alone in the middle of the room.

Clint sighed, flopping back down onto the couch, closing his eyes and thinking maybe he could just take a nap and everything would be better when he woke up. When the door opened and shut again just a minute later he didn't bother to open his eyes or raise his head. He figured Nat had just been teaching him a lesson if she was returning so quickly.

“I am not a grumpy cat.” Clint chose to ignore that even to his own ears he sounded petulant.

“Uh, okay.” The sound of Bucky’s voice had Clint shooting back up off the couch.

Bucky stood just inside the door. There was a long pause where they simply stood staring at each other. Clint’s brain seemed to have gone offline, he couldn’t think of anything to say. It was Bucky who finally broke the silence. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He was avoiding eye contact while clearly scanning Clint for injuries; his eyes lingered on Clint’s shoulder but swept over him head to toe.

“I’m fine,” Clint said. His throat had gone dry and his heart rate was higher than it had been during the earlier firefight and car wreck.

“Good,” Bucky finally met his eyes. “That’s good.” He swallowed and Clint watched his Adam's apple bob.

Once again they stood there in silence just staring at each other. Clint became aware of the fact that he was shirtless, had a bag of ice strapped to his shoulder and looked like hell and his ex was a few feet away looking like he had just stepped off a runway. Bucky’s stubble was at that perfect amount that looked intentional, which Clint could never really manage to do, he always just looked unshaven. His hair was loose, hanging down around his face, a clear signal that the job was over since he always had it tied back when he was working. The jeans he wore looked painted on and the leather jacket over the dark t-shirt, while simple, still managed to look fantastic. 

In Clint’s opinion it was unfair but sadly on brand for him that the first time he was in a room with Bucky again he looked amazing and Clint looked like he’d just been in a car wreck, literally. The quiet was becoming unbearable, he didn’t know what to do with his hand and his shoulder hurt so Clint gave up trying to play it cool. It’s not like he was ever actually able to pull _cool_ off anyways. 

“You want a beer? I’m getting a beer,” he said, turning to the fridge. 

Bucky stepped farther into the room. “Sure, a beer would be good.”

Clint snagged two bottles out of the fridge and closed it with his hip before turning and holding them out so Bucky could grab one. Bucky stepped even closer in order to reach out and take it from him. He was so close Clint got a whiff of his cologne, which meant he could definitely smell Clint, who absolutely did not smell as good. Today was really just not going well for him at all.

He realized, watching Bucky twist the cap off his beer, that there was no way he was going to be able to do that one handed. He watched while Bucky tipped his head back to take a swig and wondered if there was a way to casually just put the beer back. Maybe he could try and use his other hand? He started to try and lift the bottle to where his left hand was strapped to his chest when Bucky noticed his predicament. 

“Come here.'' Bucky stepped in close, reaching around Clint to set his own bottle down on the counter, and took Clint’s from his hand. “Lemme help.” 

“Thanks,” Clint's voice cracked. He leaned in a bit, and could feel Bucky’s body heat radiating off of him in stark contrast to the chill of the ice on his shoulder and he shivered. Bucky twisted the cap off and held the bottle back out to him. Clint took it, but Bucky was slow to let go. Clint felt like the place where their fingers touched was on fire. Bucky finally let go, then reached back around Clint to grab his bottle back up off the counter. He did not step back out of Clint's space.

Clint took a sip of his beer, keenly aware of how close Bucky was and how good he smelled and how much he missed him. 

Bucky cleared his throat. “So how's your shoulder?” he asked.

“Oh, umm just dislocated, Nat put it back in.” Clint gave a one sided shrug. “Like it’s sore but no serious damage.”

“Good, that's good,” Bucky nodded, then tipped his bottle back and finished the entire beer in one long pull.

Clint blinked, mesmerized by the movement of Bucky's throat swallowing. When Bucky finished he set his empty bottle back onto the counter, then took Clint’s mostly full one out of his hand and put it on the counter as well. Clint let him, confused. 

“I’m gonna do something, feel free to punch me,” Bucky said. Before Clint could summon up a response to that statement Bucky closed the few inches between them, leaning in to kiss Clint.

It started out soft and questioning and quickly turned hot as hell. Clint wrapped his good arm around Bucky and pulled him in close while Bucky's hands came up to cup his face. Clint was kissing Bucky as if he was air. Bucky returned it with such urgency Clint thought his lips were going to bruise. He couldn't help but wonder if he was dreaming, maybe he’d hit his head in the wreck and this was just a concussion _. Did concussions give you hallucinations_?

Bucky was trailing kisses along Clint’s throat and reaching for the button on his pants when Clint’s brain finally rebooted enough for him to realize this was definitely happening, and he didn’t want it to happen standing up. He wanted Bucky spread out underneath him more than anything in the world. He turned them and started to walk Bucky backwards toward the bed. 

They ran into the table, knocked over the chair, but didn’t stop until they bumped into the couch. The bed was only a few more steps, but Clint didn’t have the patience to get there. He pushed Bucky down, who went easily, then took a moment to kick off his boots and start to undo his belt one handed. Bucky was clearly on board since he also pulled his boots off and reached to help Clint undo his pants. He hadn't realized his fingers were shaking until Bucky’s tangled with his, helping tug his pants and boxers down, his hard length bobbing free. In nothing but his socks and the arm sling he climbed into Bucky's lap.

“Fuck, Clint,” Bucky groaned, his hands roaming arocrss every inch of Clint, tugging him close to kiss him some more. 

Clint felt a surge of feelings that he pushed down ruthlessly. He didn’t know what was happening right now besides the obvious. Just because the sound of his name on Bucky's lips was enough to undo him did not mean this was anything more than sex. Bucky had ghosted him for a year; just cause he was currently shoving his tongue in Clint’s mouth and grabbing his ass did not mean he felt the same way Clint did. The smart thing to do was to ignore his feelings and just enjoy the sex. 

If he was really trying to do the smart thing he wouldn't be naked in Bucky’s lap right now, but that ship had sailed so he was now going to do his best to have meaningless sex with his ex. That was a normal thing people did, right? Hook up with an ex and it could be chill? _I can do this,_ he told himself firmly and reached for Bucky's pants. Clint fumbled with the fastenings of Bucky’s belt until Bucky’s hands joined in, helping, and soon his pants were shoved down around his thighs.

Bucky was hard as he pressed himself close to Clint, and Clint moaned into his mouth. A few frantic movements followed, until Bucky managed to wrap a hand around both of their shafts. Bucky’s other arm was wrapped around Clint’s waist, holding him close and Clint's hand ended up Bucky’s hair. It was too fast and uncoordinated and fucking amazing.

Clint tipped his head back and his eyes fluttered shut against the desperate feeling of wanting to come right that second, but also, at the very same time, to stay strung out like this forever. It felt so good and he never wanted this moment to end. Bucky reached up and ran his thumb across Clint's lips. 

“Look at me,” Bucky rasped, so Clint did. Bucky’s hair was fanned out against the dark blue of the couch’s upholstery, the look on his face was intense, but Clint couldn't figure out what it meant. Clint struggled with pushing his feelings down; it was too much.

“So good Buck,” he slurred, leaning in to press his mouth to Bucky’s.

Bucky whined, kissing him back, his grip on them almost too tight. They didn’t last long after that, Clint tumbling over the edge and Bucky right behind him. Clint’s head was spinning, so he closed his eyes, tucking his head into Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky wiped his hand off halfheartedly on the couch then rubbed soothing trails up and down Clint’s back. They laid like that, catching their breath for a while. Clint must have dozed off, cause the next thing he knew Bucky was shaking him gently.

“Come on Clint, you need to get into bed,” Bucky murmured, his lips tickling against Clint’s ear.

“I don’t wanna.” Clint was afraid to open his eyes, afraid of this moment ending. He tucked his face more firmly into Bucky’s neck.

Bucky chuckled, Clint could feel the rumble in his own chest. Then suddenly the world shifted as Bucky wrapped his arms around Clint and stood. Clint grabbed on, wrapping his arms and legs around Bucky with a startled laugh.

“What the hell?” he gasped as Bucky took the two steps to dump Clint onto the bed. Clint was taller and broader than Bucky, who was not a tiny man, so the fact that Bucky could pick him up was a testament to his strength. If Clint hadn’t just come he would be having much more of a reaction to being manhandled like that. 

Bucky just laughed at him, he turned off the lights, tugged the blankets down so Clint could slide in between them before climbing into the bed as well. Clint tugged the mostly melted ice pack off and tossed it aside onto the floor. Bucky reached over, tugging the strap of the sling tight so Clint wouldn’t move his arm too much in his sleep. 

Bucky rested his head onto Clint’s good shoulder and settled in like he was going to sleep. They hadn't shared a bed in almost a year, but they slid together like it had been yesterday. Clint bit his tongue, desperate to ask what this was, what was happening? Questions swirled in his head, but he was tired, the day, the pain in his shoulder and the orgasm were all too much for him to resist falling asleep. His last thought before drifting off was how good it felt to have Bucky pressed against him, and wondering if he’d still be there when he woke up.

*** 

Clint woke first the next morning, and while his shoulder was still sore, he felt better rested than he had in months. Bucky was still asleep next to him. In their sleep they had moved so Bucky was sprawled on his back, Clint pressed to his side and their legs tangled together. Clint went up on his elbow and looked down at Bucky. There was a spill of light coming through the window that lit him up so his skin glowed. His hair was a mess and there was a pillow crease on his cheek, but he was the most beautiful thing Clint has ever seen.

There were a few glorious moments where Clint got to look his fill before Bucky stirred. He grumbled and rolled into Clint, rubbing his face against Clint’s chest like a cat. His stubble scraped, making Clint shiver. Bucky must have felt the shiver because he pulled back to look up at Clint, his eyes still sleepy but a wicked smile on his face.

“Good morning gorgeous.” Bucky’s voice was rough with sleep and Clint’s entire body woke up with a thrill of interest. Bucky reached up a hand to cup Clint’s cheek, running a thumb along his bottom lip. Clint could feel them on a precipice of a moment; he could tip over, just lean in and kiss Bucky and they would fall right back together like they had the night before. But he couldn’t do it--he couldn’t pretend like he didn’t care and this was just sex. He reached up and took Bucky’s hand in his, pulling it away from his mouth. 

“Why did you leave?” Clint asked. “What did I do?”

Clint felt like all the air left the room when Bucky sat up, pulling away from him. He braced for Bucky to get up, get dressed and leave. Instead Bucky took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes.

“Fuck, okay, we’re gonna do this before coffee,” he said it lightly though and Clint couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope. He hadn’t just left, so they were already doing better than Clint had feared.

“I mean I can put a pot on,” Clint offered. Bucky dropped his hands to look at Clint, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah, okay, you start a pot and I'll try and explain,” Bucky agreed. 

So Clint climbed out of bed and headed to the kitchen, he didn’t bother to put on pants but he did pull off the sling. There was quiet while he put the grounds and water into the coffee pot, turned it on, then turned back around. He caught Bucky's eye trailing up his body as he walked back across the room and crawled back into the bed.

“So?” he prompted. He enjoyed Bucky's eyes on him and wanted his hands and mouth on him too. But right now what he needed more was to understand.

Bucky sat up, sitting crossed-legged, and took Cint’s hands in his. “I was an idiot and a coward and I am so sorry Clint,” He said in a rush. His face was open, his eyes earnest and his grip on Clint’s hand were tight. 

“Okay,” Clint said after it seemed like that was all Bucky had to say. “But what did I do?” Clint was so confused. 

“Do?” Bucky asked, clearly now also confused. “You didn’t do anything, I fucking left you, Clint! I snuck out in the middle of the night!”

“Yeah, cause I did _something_ ,” Clint replied. “I need to know what I did so I can not do it again so you don’t have to leave again,” Clint explained.

“Oh my god Clint,” Bucky's voice broke and he tugged Clint into a hug. Clint went with it. He liked hugs, but he was still very confused. “You didn’t _do_ anything. You said forever and I realized that's what I wanted. I wanted forever with you and I panicked and ran. I am the asshole here, not you, babe.” 

Bucky pulled back to look into Clint's face. “I love you, and want to be with you for the rest of my life. I know I fucked up and if you can’t forgive me, I understand. But if you’ll have me I want this.” He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Clint’s lips. “I want you.” 

“ _Oh_.” It was starting to make sense to Clint, but he was still struggling with the idea that Bucky would want forever with him. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah?” Bucky was looking at him with such hope on his face that Clint couldn't bear it.

“Bucky, you are it for me. It’s always been you from the beginning and it’ll always be you. I’m yours as long as you want me.” His own hands had reached out to grip Bucky’s. 

“How’s forever sound?” Bucky asked, his voice soft, tentative almost. Bucky was a lot of things, but he was never tentative and it broke Clint’s heart that he wasn’t sure of how much Clint loved him. 

“You're stuck with me. You try to sneak out on me again and I will hunt you down.” Clint leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. Bucky was smiling. 

“I’m serious, you can run but I will find you. I’ve got Nat on my team, if she's looking for you she _will_ find you.” Clint’s serious voice was difficult to maintain with all the fluttery feelings in his belly and how his heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

Bucky laughed, “I'm not going anywhere again, I promise.” 

There was a sudden knock at the door before it swung open. Both Clint and Bucky had recognized the distinct knock-knock-knock, so neither of them were too startled by Nat’s entrance, at least not so startled to reach for a weapon. Clint did tug the sheets up a bit, not that Nat hadn't already seen everything there was to see, but he figured it was polite to make sure his dick was covered. She breezed in, poured herself a coffee, tipped the chair back up and sat, all without looking up from her phone.

“We have a job in Berlin in 14 hours, you're going to need your climbing gear,” she said, still typing away at her phone. 

Bucky and Clint glanced at each other. Clint felt a stab of fear, afraid for the moment to pass. Bucky smiled at him which calmed him a bit.

“Okay, well I’ll get out of the way. I guess I’ll go track down Steve and Sam.” Bucky started to climb out of the bed. Clint couldn’t help but reach out to catch his wrist. “I’ll meet up with you when you get back stateside.” Bucky reassured him.

“Wait-” Clint started before Nat cut him off.

“You're not going anywhere Barnes,” there was steel in Nat’s voice. “Rodgers and Wilson are already on a plane. Your gear is in my truck, we’ll grab you a tux when we get to Germany.” She took a sip of her coffee, wrinkling her nose at the poor quality before downing the rest. 

“Uh what?” Bucky asked but he sat back down. Clint kept his grip on his wrist.

She looked up from her phone for the first time. “It’s a four man job, I count as two men, plus the two of you makes four.” She spoke slowly as if explaining math to a small child. There was a pause, then Bucky turned his wrist in Clint's grasp to instead intertwine their fingers. Clint’s heart was beating far too fast for sitting in bed having a conversation.

“Why do I need a tux?” Bucky finally asked.

“Clint doesn't know the Viennese waltz so _you_ get to be the distraction,” she answered. Both of them were smart enough to not wonder out loud why she couldn’t be the distraction. Her eyes had returned to her phone and having finished her coffee, she was now typing away with both thumbs. 

After a moment, and apparently finishing whatever it was she was doing on her phone, she stood and headed for the door. 

“Wheels up in eight hours, you better shower before you get in a confined space with me or I'll toss you out mid-flight.” The door closed behind her with a click.

“So, what do you want to do with seven and a half hours?” Bucky asked, turning to face Clint.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Clint smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr ](http://mollynoble.tumblr.com/) if you want:)


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